Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/222

166 Ah mother, what shall comfort thee

In all this boundless misery?

To cheer our eager eyes awhile

We see thee smile, how fondly smile!

But who reads not through the tender glow

Thy deep, unutterable woe?

Indeed no darling land above

Can cheat thee of thy children's love.

We all in life's departing shine,

Our last dear longings blend with thine,

And struggle still and strive to trace

With clouded gaze thy darling face.

We would not leave our nature home

For any world beyond the tomb.

No, mother, on thy kindly breast

Let us be laid in lasting rest,

Or waken but to share with thee

A mutual immortality.